


Grief blanketed my soul, but in you I found healing

by weepingnaiad



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Community: hc_bingo, Community: jim_and_bones, Community: trope_bingo, Drug Abuse, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trope Bingo Round 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Leonard's familiar with death, he's a doctor, after all.  But some losses are harder to take than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief blanketed my soul, but in you I found healing

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** As ever, my brain twin, and soul sister, abigail89, wrangled my words into something readable and coherent. I will never be able to convey my gratitude, bb. But, of course, I fiddle even after posting, so any mistakes are all on me.  
>  **Content Advisory:** canon character death, abuse of medical stimulants  
>  **A/N:** Fill for the [Regeneration Challenge](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/tag/challenge%3A%20regeneration) on the LJ comm, jim_and_bones. My prompt was: _I'm sure there are plenty of fics about how Pike's death affects Jim, particularly after those fun scenes together. But how does Pike's death affect McCoy?_  
>  **A/N:** This also satisfies my hurt-comfort wild card bingo square: _Grief_ and my trope bingo square: _hurt-comfort._  
>  **Disclaimer:** These are Paramount and Roddenberry's characters used in the spirit of creative commons. I promise to return them with smiles on.

If Leonard hadn't been so caught up in the casualties, lost in the constant stream of injuries, he wouldn't have been able to breathe once he learned what that rat bastard had taken from them, from Jim, from _him._

But he wasn't informed. He didn't know. He'd just been working an extra shift at Starfleet General when a garbled report came in. At first they all assumed it was an accident; then he was busy doing triage and didn't have time for idle speculation. So nothing stopped him working, nothing clouded his mind. There was no loss, no sense of regret, no worry. Because he'd had no idea about the meeting. He'd honestly barely spoken to Jim since he'd been called into Pike's office.

Leonard should probably feel guilty about that, about not being there for Jim, but that meeting had ended badly for Jim and when Leonard had asked about it, they'd fought. Jim's eyes had flashed betrayal when Leonard had agreed with, even cheered Pike taking over the Enterprise. Leonard hadn't meant everything that he'd said, but he was still a stubborn cuss and he _had_ meant it when he told Jim that he'd been stupid for lying on an official report. Losing his captain's stripes was a small enough price to pay when it could have been so much worse.

Of course, that set Jim off and his words stung, cut a little too deep, a little too close to the bone. So Leonard hadn't known Jim was attending a meeting with the top brass. When more details came in and the casualties started, he'd worked as effectively, as efficiently as ever, Admiral Boyce coordinating and keeping everything running like a smoothly calibrated warp core in the background.

Until Admiral Pike was brought in.

Phil was at the emergency transporter, barking out orders, performing hasty triage, assigning physicians when his voice stopped. Leonard had just finished up one case, had turned the patient over to a junior surgeon to close before he returned to the transporter area. He stepped into the room only to be met with a terrifying sight: Admiral Philip Boyce was on his knees on the transporter, Admiral Pike's lifeless body cradled in his arms.

The silence was deafening as they all stared. Nobody moved, nobody _could_ move. Leonard himself forgot his training, forget what needed to be done for long moments as his boss and mentor grieved over his lover, Jim's mentor and father-figure, and the man who had recruited Leonard into Starfleet.

With a harsh cry, Leonard shook himself out of his stupor and leapt to Phil's side. Even without his tricorder, he knew it was too late, but that wasn't the way this was supposed to go. He was a professional, dammit, and he was going to behave like one.

But there was nothing professional about dragging his boss and friend away from his lover's body. Leonard would have gladly left with Phil, allowed someone else to handle the determination of death, but Phil asked Leonard to 'take care of Chris', so he did, even as he was breaking inside.

Somehow Leonard managed to perform his duties with care and compassion, cataloguing the cause and time of death with careful precision. The report was as accurate as he could make it; there was no mistaking the phaser burns that had stopped Admiral Christopher Pike. And wasn't that fucking ironic? Chris Pike had survived many years in space, endured torture and an alien slug tearing into his spinal cord, had triumphed over a long, painful recovery but in the end was taken out by a madman here at home where he should have been safe.

He was saved from verbally reporting back to Phil because the admiral had been whisked away by Number One and Cait Barry. At least he was in good hands.

But that left Leonard to find Jim and tell him what had happened.

~~*~~

A beautiful new day was breaking over the bay when Leonard left the hospital, the indigo sky fading to violet in the east. It was too serene, too peaceful for the tumult in Leonard's head and heart. The campus was mostly empty and silent as Leonard made his way to the shuttle stop, only a few early risers, or late partiers out, none of them aware what had happened, just how much their world had changed. Leonard wondered where the security was, wondered why it was so quiet.

A rogue agent attacked Starfleet. How was that even possible? It all seemed more like a historical holonovel than reality. But Leonard had seen the results with his own eyes, had catalogued the dead and injured. His thoughts swirled, drifting, restless and unfocused. Logically, he knew he was in shock, still stunned, and too tired to process, but none of that saved him from his responsibility to Jim.

Despite their argument, despite the wedge Jim's censure had driven between them, despite the uncertainty of where separate postings would leave _them,_ despite his own, chaotic, disjointed emotions, Leonard needed to be the one to tell Jim. He was the only one who knew how much Pike had meant to Jim. How he'd been more than an academic advisor. He'd filled a hole in Jim's psyche, a need that had gone wanting his entire life, and now Pike was gone. All on the heels of having to bust Jim, take his stripes, and his ship. How much could one person endure?

Leonard hadn't been worried when Jim had told him that Pike was taking the Enterprise. Even though Leonard knew it meant the crew would be separated, even though he knew he'd lose the medbay to Boyce, even though it meant Jim'd be stuck at the Academy or posted to another ship. Leonard hadn't cared. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. He'd cared. But, he'd known it was the right decision. He respected Pike too much and knew, as much as the guilt made his gut roil and twist, he _knew_ Jim was reckless, rash, and too willing to side-step or bound over any rules he didn't like. And that was trouble.

Showering helped Leonard gather his thoughts, woke him enough to wonder that he hadn't heard from Jim. Even if they were avoiding each other, they'd text back and forth just to keep in touch. He sent Jim a text, then replicated coffee. The caffeine would enhance the mild stim he administered as he dressed. When he didn't receive a reply to his query to Jim, his stomach began to churn and not from the meds.

Taking a deep breath, he slipped into his boots and strode into the morning. He wasn't going to allow himself to worry. He knew better and panicking wouldn't help matters in the least.

~~*~~

He found Jim, tracking him down to a balcony overlooking the campus. From the moment Leonard glimpsed Jim's face, he knew it was too late. Jim already knew.

His eyes shone with tears and Leonard barely held back a sob of his own before they were tangled together, holding tight enough to bruise, lips fierce before stuttered gasps broke them apart. Leonard didn't pull away, he pressed forward, shoved Jim into a corner with concealing shadows and let them both cry.

Leonard's whole body shuddered as Jim clung to him, his face pressed into Leonard's shoulder. There was no need for words, nothing could be said that would fix it and Leonard's throat was too tight; he couldn't speak even if some magic allowed him to pull up the right thing to say.

They stay wrapped together, breathing the same air, bodies pressed knee to shoulder as Leonard finally let himself grieve and not just for Pike but for all the dead and all that the attack meant to their way of life. Since Nero, the isolationist groups had grown increasingly vocal and Terra Prime was making a resurgence until Leonard even heard murmurs from Georgia. This would only add fuel to the fire.

They stood there for the longest time, dawn gave way to a bright, clear day. The quad immediately below them began to buzz with people as the shadows slowly drained from their little hidden corner. When the sun began to warm Leonard's back, he shifted, turning to lean his shoulder against the wall and gaze at Jim.

"When was the last time you slept, darlin'?" he asked. The bruises under Jim's eyes, the set of his jaw and his drawn brows made Leonard aware of how fragile Jim's state was.

"Can't... have a meeting with Marcus... and-and..." he stuttered, then stopped.

"Jim," Leonard pleaded, voice gentle as he tilted Jim's chin up. "You're no good to anybody running on fumes."

Jim closed his eyes, but leaned more heavily against Leonard. He was shaking his head. "Did you hear? Do you know what happened?"

"Some terrorist agent. Probably Terra Prime targeted a high level meeting," Leonard said, then paused. Jim was still shaking his head. "Something to do with the London bombing?" he asked.

"I was there, Bones. I-I... he was dead by the time I..." Jim swallowed, slowly opened his eyes and met Leonard's gaze. "I tried to stop the bastard. I took his ship down, but he transported out. Scotty's working on it. Did you know that Pike arranged for me to be his First?" He bit his lip, eyes welling up as he took a shaky breath. "He-he fought for me. No one's ever done that. And now he's gone. Gunned down for fuck-all."

Leonard inhaled sharply. Fuck. Jim had been there. Jim could have _died._ Leonard sagged and pulled Jim closer. "Goddammit, kid. I didn't know. I thought you were off getting wasted." He wanted to say more, tell Jim just how relieved he was, but that wouldn't do Pike's memory any justice and wouldn't help Jim.

Something in Leonard's tone made Jim stiffen. He pulled back slightly, spine straight and eyes suspicious. "I can be a responsible adult, Bones. And, as First Officer of the flagship, I would have been included in any high-level strategy meeting. Where else would I have been?"

Leonard hated that they were back to this, but he kept his rising anger in check. "Well, I didn't know any of that! If you hadn't been avoiding me for the past three days, I might have had some idea!"

"Me? Avoiding you? What the fuck, Bones? You're the one who decided to go all self-righteous on my ass. Whatever," Jim huffed and tried to pull away.

Leonard held tight. "No. Nope. Don't leave, Jim. I'm sorry. We need to talk about this, about all the shit this brought up. And I know you were hurt, by the hobgoblin and by Pike. I shouldn't have piled on. But I won't lie to you. I swore to you I'd never do that, even if it's the hard truths."

Jim looked at Leonard, his eyes cloudy with a myriad of emotions. "I never asked you to lie to me, but I had hoped that my lover might at least see my side."

"I did! I do," he said, voice gentling. "I also know that you made a mistake--"

"You believe saving Spock was a mistake?"

"No," Leonard said. "I just think you have to own the decisions you make out there. It's not like there's a handbook for first contact, even if some people think there is." He hesitated, but then decided what the hell, better to get it all out there. "You were the captain, so act like it. And you sure as hell don't falsify an official report."

Jim blinked at Leonard, a slow smile lifting the corners of his mouth. It didn't relieve the darkness in his eyes, but it was a start. "You believe in me, Bones?"

"You know I do, kid. I followed your ass out into space," Leonard said. "Wouldn't have done that for just anyone," he grumbled.

Jim's answering smile lit his face, making Leonard's breath stutter for a completely different reason. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bones. I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

"Why?"

"Scotty'll find that bastard and I'm going after him."

Leonard swallowed. Jim's face was grim, eyes filled with a heated determination that spoke to just how far he was willing to go to bring in Pike's killer. Leonard just hoped that he didn't lose Jim in the process.

~~*~~

Once it sunk in that Jim had been in the attack, Leonard tried to scan Jim for injuries, but Jim was adept at avoiding his tricorder. In fact, Leonard barely managed to get him to take a shower and eat something before he left for his scheduled meeting. If Leonard surreptitiously gave Jim a low-dose stim, neither of them owned up to it.

They parted ways in front of headquarters with Leonard heading back to Starfleet General. The work at least kept his mind off of his worry for Jim.

Of course, nothing could stop his heart from beating out of his chest when he heard that Jim was going after the rogue agent who now had a name, John Harrison. The summons to the shuttlebay shouldn't have surprised him, but seeing Jim's intent with his own eyes made him hesitate. He wanted Pike's killer brought to justice, but Jim looked like a man hell bent on vengeance.

He boarded the shuttle despite his misgivings. He'd promised he'd be there for Jim and he would be. He sat behind Jim and Spock so that he could scan Jim and at least try to heal some of his cuts and bruises. Of course, Jim did not take that well at all. But before Leonard could argue, a beautiful blonde stepped up to Jim, introducing herself as his new science officer. Spock's expression was priceless and Leonard sat back with a smile on his face. This was going to be good.

~~*~~

It wasn't good. It was hell; a nonstop maelstrom that threatened to tear the ship and crew apart. In the end, it nearly did destroy them all, the dead too numerous to name. And Leonard's grief at losing Pike was nothing compared to the black hole that dragged him down when he saw Jim in that body bag. What happened after he collapsed into the chair was all a blur, lost among the overpowering sense of desperation and loss that colored his world.

Even though he synthesized the serum from Khan's blood and administered it, watching as Jim's heart began to beat again, Leonard couldn't think clearly or even put a name to his wretched emotions. His heart was a wreck, nearly as bad as the Enterprise herself.

The weeks that followed were no better, passing in a blur while Leonard lived on stims at Jim's bedside.

That it was Philip Boyce of all people that came and dragged him out of Jim's room, should have made Leonard feel guilty, but at that point he was little more than a ragdoll, limbs loose, torso hollow, and his head stuffed with cotton. He blinked up at Phil who was almost unrecognizable in civvies and a beard.

What weight he'd lost in the intervening weeks hadn't diminished his command ability. Leonard jerked to his feet when Phil barked; allowing himself to be dragged away, unprotesting despite the wrongness of leaving Jim's side.

And from that moment to the next, Leonard was suddenly stepping into an expensive flat overlooking the Academy. 

"What the hell?" Leonard asked, voice gruffer than he intended as he glanced around the unfamiliar apartment.

Phil's eyes narrowed. "You don't recognize the symptoms of a stim overdose, McCoy?"

Leonard blinked. And, yeah, he was tired, but no way in hell was that the reason he kept losing little snippets of time. "I'm just tired."

"Tired my ass. You're starting to fugue."

Phil was over by the kitchen and then he was suddenly in Leonard's face holding out a glass.

"Fuck!" Leonard recoiled, hitting his head on the wall. That sent the room to spinning and he growled at Phil. "Goddammit! Warn a guy!"

"You're damned lucky I didn't admit your ass right then and there." He nudged Leonard's arm which was holding a glass. "Go on, drink up."

"What are you dosing me with?"

Phil snorted. "Idiot. If I was giving you anything but a nutritive drink, it'd come in a hypo."

"Sedatives dissolve well in sweet tea," Leonard argued.

"Quit being an argumentative ass and drink it. I'm sure as hell not going to compound your blood toxicity by dumping in sedatives on top of the stims."

Leonard drained the glass and sagged against the wall as he finally let go. In the next instant he was sprawled face down on a bed, shoes off, and the curtains drawn. Phil was standing over him, but Leonard couldn't see his expression.

Phil pressed a hypo to his neck, giving him a sad smile. "He was always protective of you and Jim. Wanted to make sure someone watched your backs." Phil swallowed, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper as he continued, "So I couldn't leave you to self-destruct."

"I'm scared, Phil," Leonard admitted. "What if--"

"Of course you are," he interrupted. "But the one thing that I know about Jim Kirk is that he's got more lives than a cat. And he has you. There's just no one better. He'll pull through, but he's gonna have a long road and it won't do any good if you burn out before he wakes."

Leonard's eyes were growing heavy, his body sinking into the mattress as he weakened, falling into lethargy as his limbs melted and fused with the bed.

"I'm sorry," he slurred, apologizing for so many things as he drifted off.

~~*~~

When Leonard awoke twenty-four hours later, the apartment was silent and dark, but there was a PADD beside the bed with Jim's status and instructions for Leonard that he had to comply with or risk being banned from the hospital.

He followed them to the letter and was there when Jim awoke, his eyes a faded blue over sallow cheeks, but he was alive and aware and Leonard couldn't stop his tears. He hid behind sarcasm when Spock was visiting, but Jim knew him too well, didn't let him ignore the elephant in the room.

Jim's recovery was a slow and painful process for all of them, happening in fits and starts with more setbacks than seemed possible. Jim wasn't a model patient at the best of times, but this tested him until he was snappy and churlish, an argument on his lips whenever Leonard opened his mouth.

In the end, it took Leonard, Phil, and the entire bridge crew working in tandem to keep Jim entertained and moving forward with his recovery. Just when Jim was having more good days than bad, the brass called to demand that Jim report for duty. He needed more time, wasn't ready and Leonard hit the roof when he returned home to find Jim struggling into his boots. He always was a damn fool about his own health, never had the good sense to come in out of the rain.

Leonard pushed Jim back against the cushions and began pulling the boots off despite Jim's half-hearted complaints.

"Your medical team hasn't cleared ya', darlin'."

"But Starfleet command--"

"I don't give a rat's ass what they ordered you to do. You're not going anywhere."

"Admiral Liu isn't going to like that, Bones," Jim said, his voice rusty and dry.

Leonard shrugged, unconcerned. "Since when do I care what some pompous, over-inflated windbag thinks?" He patted Jim's arm and pressed a hand to his cheek, surreptitiously checking Jim's vitals.

"But it'll be me that gets written up," Jim whined, his hand covering Leonard's even as he gave up all pretense of fighting.

Leonard gave a little smug smile, dropped a kiss to Jim's lips, then straightened. "You let me worry about that, you hear?"

Jim nodded, head sagging against the sofa.

After Leonard made Jim a light lunch and made sure he ate most of it, he bundled him off to bed for a nap. Then Leonard began calling in favors.

~~*~~

Over the course of the next couple of months, Leonard kept busy with shifts at the hospital to keep from 'hovering'. Both Jim and Phil were too stubborn to admit they needed looking after, so Leonard had to be wily about doing so. He thought he was clever enough to keep Jim isolated, but the brass was determined to have Jim on hand. They wanted him in light of their diminished ranks and for his accomplishments, but less for what he'd done or could do and more for what he symbolized. They kept pushing, forcing the issue every week and Leonard was having none of that shit.

He fought the orders, winning more rounds than he lost thanks to his own living, breathing 'conscience', but Jim himself finally relented and insisted that he was well enough to go in for meetings. He argued with Leonard if he was strong enough to sit on his ass at home all day, he was surely strong enough to sit on his ass at headquarters. So Leonard lost that one, but that didn't stop him from keeping a close eye on Jim.

It did give him more time to watch over Phil whose grief hit a little too close to home, reminding Leonard sharply of his mother after his father had passed. He endured his mother turning into a living wraith and he couldn't bear that fate for Phil. But running Medical wasn't enough, not for Admiral Philip Boyce. Leonard tried to help, made suggestions, even went so far as to pry into Phil's family. That wasn't helpful with there only being a cousin that Phil kept in contact with.

It galled Leonard that for all his training he still was little better than useless, forced to watch as Phil's method of coping took its toll. Phil wasn't losing himself in the bottom of a bottle, but he was hiding, burying himself in work, research, long hours, anything to keep the thoughts at bay. Leonard's ethics told him to report Phil, to get him professional help, but Phil hadn't ratted him out and he wasn't about to repay that kindness with betrayal. Phil didn't have family, but Chris did. Leonard only hoped that Phil would forgive him when he made the call to Chris' mother. He knew he'd made the right call when Cait and Number One arrived to drag a sullen Phil away from his office.

They were all Starfleet officers, professionals devoted to the service, but none of them were superhuman, just fragile beings stretched beyond breaking. Even Spock had taken leave; he and Nyota left for New Vulcan as soon as Jim attended his first command meeting. Seeing Phil fighting so hard against the tide of grief made Leonard reconsider his own coping methods. Hiding in a semblance of 'normal' when the devastated campus all around him was anything but had done nothing but delayed the inevitable, for himself and for Jim.

It was a determined Leonard that collected Jim and decamped to Georgia for the duration. His only concession to the brass' outrage was not declaring Jim unfit for duty and removing him from their clutches altogether, thus allowing him to work remotely with rare trips for in-person meetings. The healing that they both found in Georgia heat wallpapered over the hole in their soul but didn't stop Leonard's heart from shattering once again when they returned to San Francisco.

Jim worked tirelessly on his speech, giving it his full attention and infinite care, not even allowing Leonard to help him with it. He was determined to do it on his own; as tribute or penance, Leonard didn't know. But true to James T. Kirk's genius, the dedication was a moving, heartfelt, perfect testimonial to the man that had been more than a mentor to Jim. It took all Leonard had to remain somber as a ramrod straight Phil Boyce accepted the posthumous medal for his husband, Admiral Christopher Pike. There were no dry eyes when the missing man formation zoomed by overhead breaking the tension that was nearly suffocating.

The crowd that descended then kept Leonard from Phil and Jim; everyone wanting a piece of them.

They caught up afterwards, at the wake at Number One's flat. The party was raucous and wild as only officers who'd lost so much could be. It was a fitting memorial for a man who lived as large as Christopher Pike had, but Leonard still had to escape. He fled to the balcony, glass of mighty fine bourbon in his hand as he stared out at the recovering campus and city below them. When a presence joined him, his chest tightened to see Phil beside him offering the bottle. Leonard nodded, accepting the large pour.

Neither spoke as they sat in silent contemplation of the last year, of their lives, of regret and hope. Leonard wished for the right words, wished he could express as elegantly as Jim what Chris had meant to him, but Phil wasn't a man of words and he seemed to understand. The patio doors opened again and Leonard recognized that footstep anywhere. He straightened and turned to see Jim standing there, empty glass twisting in his fingers, his eyes uncertain.

"Am I interrupting?"

Leonard shook his head, but Phil gave Jim a ghost of a smile. "Course not." He lifted the bottle. "Refill?"

"Yeah, thanks," Jim said, but he wanted to say more. Quiet had never been his style. He took a deep breath and lifted his glass. "To Chris, the best man I've ever known."

Leonard blinked, swallowing, eyes quickly darting to Phil. But he was raising his glass, that ghost of a smile wider, more full now. "To Chris Pike, the most infuriating bastard I had the pleasure of knowing and loving. Goddamn, but the man was brilliant, burned as bright as a supernova..." He paused, words dying on a breath.

Leonard jumped in, lifting his glass. "To the only man who could convince me to join a space-based operation." Taking a last breath, he said, words full of heart and soul, "To Chris Pike, one of the best of us."

A muted chorus of "Hear, hear!" and a litany of "To Chris" echoed Leonard's words as the whole party joined in the toast.

The End


End file.
